Biography:Every so often Wesley wondered if he was just being sentimental or if his oldest daughter really had been forced to grow up a little too fast. Noelle Marie had the iron will of her mother and the spunk of her father, but she was more introspective than he had been. More worldly, less naive, less impulsive. At six, she'd nearly watched her father die, sitting at his sick beds and staying quiet in the halls lest she wake him; while Wesley had finally recovered, he worried it had robbed her of an early childhood.

Perhaps that early brush with impending death of a loved one (though that death never came to pass) did affect her in some way, but it did not dampen her sense of adventure nor the need to fill her head with every bit of knowledge she could get her hands on. It was those quiet times when Da was ill that Maman handed her a book about dragons, and she would silently drink in the pages, memorizing every wingspan and breath temperature. Then other times she would gallivant in the garden, pretending that she was a famous dracologist, off to study the Welsh Greens she remembered going to see before Da's illness. And when Da finally got better, that curiosity did not waiver; if anything, it intensified.

By 1947, the Winsday family had grown to accommodate another four children, all of them boys. William, five years younger, was a gentle soul (and his sister's unspoken favorite) while the triplets -- Xavier, Xander, and Xerxes -- came just two years later and were rather a handful. Between Will's plaintive cries for attention and the triplets' chaotic shenanigans, Noelle began looking for adventure beyond the Winsdays' backyard. She loved her family, adored them even, but there seemed to be less and less room for her to stretch herself out. When time allowed, she would hop on her broomstick -- her father's hand-me-down -- and fly to the park, or so she told her mother. Most days it was out to the moors beyond Hogsmeade, where she would zip over marshes and through the brush, climb trees and scramble over fallen logs, before finding her way home just in time for supper. Maybe Angel always knew where her daughter was really going, but she never said a word.

Sometimes, Elle would rope a playmate into her antics. The Ellwood-Luxe boy, her best friend Nero, was a favorite sidekick, and she would drag him all over. Some days it was looking for billywigs in the park, others it was rummaging through her father's old storage closet that she wasn't supposed to touch. She'd heard things about Nero's father, not Mr. Steele but his real father, the one that had died. Elle couldn't help but know, it wasn't hard to find the newspaper clippings about Lysander's murder at the local library, nor the very public things he'd said about Muggleborns before he was killed. It was something Nero didn't like to talk about, so Elle never brought it up. And she never let on that she'd gone digging in the first place.

Still waiting for her Hogwarts owl, she is currently impatient to hear from the school (although she knows it won't be until her eleventh birthday anyway). For now, she'll attend a few weeks of summer camp to ready herself for the next big adventure -- joining her best friend at Hogwarts!

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.

House Request: Ravenclaw. Curiosity and a constant search for knowledge make her an excellent candidate. After all, half her adventures start with the words, "what if...?"

Personality: Abundantly curious and always needing to know more, she will ask questions until she's blue in the face. Or, more likely, she'll go looking for the answer herself, something that often gets her into a great deal of trouble. Independent to a fault and not easily rattled, she is calm under pressure (even inappropriately cavalier) and adapts well in a crisis. She's a planner -- irregardless of her penchant for the chaotic, her schemes are usually still organized and thought out. She'll even budget in time for the unexpected.

Despite her fearlessness, however, she needs a lot of self-time, often slipping off into corners to recharge with a book or taking a (usually illegal) hike into the nearest wilderness. Such random bouts of aloofness can be off-putting, as can her need to be in charge -- Elle prefers to take a leadership position, especially if she knows she's the most qualified (only logical, right?). Making friends might happen more slowly for her, whereas she's more than happy to mete out justice with her own special flair on those that deserve it.

Appearance: Elle is a little tall for her age, already standing at five feet, one inch. Raven hair and a face full of freckles are offset by a pair of crystal blue eyes. It's no secret who her parents are, really -- between her mother's hair and her father's eyes, she is definitely a Dumont-Winsday. Most of the time, her hair is pulled into a long ponytail or a single braid down her back, keeping it out of her face while she's thinking. When she isn't wearing her school uniform, you will likely find her wearing either a pleated skirt or capri pants and a simple blouse. She isn't one to care much for "girly" things.

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.Sample 1:

There was no question that Hogwarts, like the rest of the Wizarding World, had recently seen its share of turmoil, starting with the untimely murder of Emma Birch. It had happened when she was quite a bit younger, too little to really be aware of what had transpired, but her father had been a professor at the time and it was hard not to hear the stories -- or be curious about the possibility that the reclusive ghost of Miss Birch haunted the Slytherin dungeons.

It warranted further investigation.

She'd learned the Lumos spell already, so she used it to light her way through the dark corridor, peering around corners and watching for anyone who might question what she was doing down here.

"H-h-hello?" Came a thin, frightened voice from just ahead and excitedly Elle's eyes brightened. Had she found the ghost of the Slytherin? "Emma?" She asked, and shone her light further ahead.

Ah no. Elle scrunched her face as she illuminated another first year, this one half cowering in the hall.

"I'm not Emma Birch," she sighed, disappointment evident before she raised her wand higher to get a better look at the other girl. "Although... you're looking for her too? Any luck?" Probably not, she decided, or the girl might have wet herself. "Well maybe we'll find her faster together. You can tell me which hallways you've already searched."

She stared at the girl expectantly.

→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Cedric Galyn, etc.

How did you find us?: I climbed into a wardrobe and found you past the winter coat section.

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?):Wesley Winsday and Angel Winsday (played)

Residence:Hogsmeade, Scotland

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)? NA

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason? NA

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:Galyn and Winsday, etc.

Biography: (100 words minimum.)

J U N E 1 9 4 0

Flame.

Flame, flame, flame.

She watched them dance, watched them sputter. Blue eyes followed them wherever they floated, serene and crackling midair, magical little tongues of fire that burst into being. She heard the chorus of voices, each of them cueing at uneven beats to produce another volley of the burning balls. She heard one voice, jubilant and deep and spitting just like the flames, and she loved it.

She loved it. She loved him. She gurgled, and she was happy.

***

A P R I L 1 9 4 4

Da-Da was sick again.

She could hear him coughing in the room where her parents slept, could hear the soft murmuring from under the door as Maman soothed him. The rest of the house was silent. Noelle was silent, listening and playing with a stuffed dragon already showing the wear and tear of a small child's love. In the corner, their golden retriever Circe kept the little girl under her watchful eye, snuffing every so often with her face on her paws.

She didn't mind, not really. Maman was being good to Da-Da, and although she was very little Noelle understood that when Da-Da was sick, she needed to be good too. And she liked being alone. She liked playing with her dragon.

But she wished Da-Da would throw her up in the air like he used to. She wished Maman would make crepes and cream again and let her help instead of cooking hurriedly so she could go work at the sweet shop.

Sometimes Noelle wished she didn't have to play with her dragon so often.

Roleplay:Reply as your character to the following:

Godric Park.

Overhead, the sky was a crisp blue, for once clear of the ever-pervasive spongy clouds and rain. The sun was a lemony-yellow presence, high in the Eastern sky, and in front of it zipped three broomsticks in a straight line, or something very like one. One... two..... three... the boys passed, their shouts of excitement echoing as they chased the snitch, a tiny shimmer reflecting the sunlight.

Far below was another, much smaller broomstick.

It trugged along the ground, hugging close to it like a sluggish choo choo train and occasionally shuttering in protest. This was because said stick was currently being occupied by a very small girl who was tugging upward on the front of it with all her might, trying to coax it into doing what it had been expressly designed NOT to do.

"John, I said wait up!" The tiny girl squealed, giving the broomstick another tug.

Begrudgingly, it drifted upward a foot, and then sank, depositing the troublesome girl safely on the ground. Janey Hurst was not pleased. In a huff, she hopped off the toy safety broom, grabbing it firmly and thrusting it handle first into the turf.

Her brother was such a beast. He NEVER let her play! She folded her arms, seething blue eyes fixing on another figure nearby. "You!" She barked, much more sharply than she meant to.

"...Do you want to play?"

Roleplay Response:Maman took her to the park whenever she could, and today the sun was especially warm and Noelle was especially happy to be out and about, rolling in the grass and giggling at the clouds that looked like dragons and unicorns floating lazily in the bright blue sky.

"John, I said wait up!"

There were other children too. Noelle looked up and watched as the girl -- who was still bigger than she was -- ran after her brother. Noelle wondered what it would be like to have a brother. She wondered if Maman and Da-Da would get her one.

"Maman," she called over to the slim, dark-haired woman on the blanket in her inquisitive, high-pitched voice. "Maman, can I have a--"

"You!"

Noelle stopped talking and looked back around, eyes wide. The girl was shouting at her.